


Fate

by swota



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Android Hank Anderson, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Human Connor (Detroit: Become Human), M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Spoilers, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-11 08:03:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15968135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swota/pseuds/swota
Summary: Fate.A strange thing really, but it is not to be worried about now. Gavin does not ponder on such a thing, for it is just a silly superstition.Or is it?This journal is to keep observations on how this plays out for Gavin. I can’t help it, I’ve always had a knack for writing.(Uncontinued)





	1. Journal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today, Gavin is getting assigned to an android. A RK800. I was originally supposed to be assigned to it, but I managed to slip out from the cruel grasp of Fowler. I simply reminded him that I was working on the red ice outbreak; therefore, I could not work on the Deviant case.

**_November 5, 2038_ **

 

 _Fate_.

     A strange thing really, but it is not to be worried about now. Gavin does not ponder on such a thing, for it is just a silly superstition.

_Or is it?_

     This journal is to keep observations on how this plays out for Gavin. I can’t help it, I’ve always had a knack for writing.

     Today, Gavin is getting assigned to an android. A RK800. I was originally supposed to be assigned to it, but I managed to slip out from the cruel grasp of Fowler. I simply reminded him that I was working on the red ice outbreak; therefore, I could not work on the Deviant case.

**_“But I know someone who can.”_ **

     I do not know how I said that with a straight face or with an even voice.

     “Hey, asshole,” Gavin greets, his own form of saying, _“hello.”_

     “Hello, Detective Reed,” I smirk, “How are you doing?”

     “What the fuck are you planning, Connor?” His face contorts into a glare, he is getting defensive already.

     Amused, I just wave him off, “Oh, _why_ would _I_ be planning something? Do I look like I have the _time_ for that?”

He crosses his arms, and he huffs through his nose, “Oh yea, you look _real_ occupied, **_Lieutenant Arkait_**.”

     The way he says it with disgust on his tongue is _almost_ successful in making me laugh, but I bite my tongue.

     “Anyway, Mr. Fowler wants you in his office,” his anger contorts into confusion, “Said something about assigning you a new partner?”

 _“What?”_ Gavin snorts in disbelief, “The only person I get along with is Tina, why would he-?”

**_“Detective Reed!”_ **

     Our heads turn to see the heavyset man leaning against the railing.

**_“My office, now!”_ **

     Gavin glances at me, and I shrug, turning in my chair to return to my _“work.”_

     By the way, did you know that androids have an amazing memory? RK800 informed me on it, and I have to say, I’m impressed with Cyberlife. I have asked the RK800, or _Hank_ , as it introduced himself, if it would give me information on his encounters with Reed. It agreed, so long as it is nothing confidential.

     Unfortunately, I do not believe I’ll have much time to talk to the android today about how Gavin reacts. However, I do have a good idea on that, as I am able to hear Gavin’s screeches from my desk.

**_This is going to be interesting._ **

 


	2. Punch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The young man surges up, fist quickly coming in contact with the android’s cheek.  
> A sickening crack resounds throughout the DPD, at least, I believe it did.

**_November 5, 2038_ **

 

 ** _“What?!”_ ** Gavin screeches, his face in the ugliest scowl Hank has ever seen on a human.

     Hank decides it’s best to keep its mouth shut, he is an android after all.

     One thing I found interesting, the RK800 has informed me that it was rushed out due to the spike in deviants; therefore, it is not even a reliable model.

     “Why the **_fuck_ ** can’t you assign that fucking piece of **_plastic_ ** ,” Gavin flails his arm around, motioning toward the android, “to Lieutenant Anderson?!”

     Fowler, pinching his temples, explains, “You know Arkait is working on the goddamned red ice—“

**_“That doesn’t even fucking matter, why can’t assign me to the case in his stead?!”_ **

     Gavin slams his hands on Fowler’s desk, a mistake on his part, for he angered the lion.

     “Reed,” Jeffrey says through gritted teeth, disdain in his voice, “I’m gonna give you _ten_ fucking seconds to get out of this office.”

     Gavin opens his mouth to reject the idea, but Fowler stops him—

**_“If you open your goddamn whiny mouth again, I’m firing you.”_ **

     RK800 is… _intrigued_ by Gavin’s reaction, his face red and storming out of Fowler’s office. The young man was so occupied with the thought of having an android as a partner that he did not even close the door.

     The police captain does not even miss a beat, let alone let the android speak, “Close the door on your way out.”

     The RK800 does as it is told, walking after Gavin. It informed me that his stress levels were what I would say, _“through the roof.”_

     Hank’s LED changes yellow as it remembers, _“Gavin’s stress levels were fifty percent, his heart rate accelerated. His hands were tangled in his dark brown hair. Profanities were tumbling from his lips.”_

     It still amazes me how observant it is, maybe it **_is_ ** a reliable model, despite its rush out onto the field.

     Hank decides it is not the best time to try and be positive, declaring that there is a ninety-eight percent chance that Gavin would just lash out at it.

     Instead, he inquires the young man, “Is there a desk anywhere I can use?”

     It does not get answered, so it asks me.

     “The desk in front of Detective Reed’s,” I inform, motioning towards the desk, “is not occupied. So you can sit there.”

     Taking a peep, I saw the android stiffly sit at his desk. Gavin continues to pout.

     “If you have any files on deviants,” its gravelly voice makes the young man look up slightly, “I’d like to take a look at them.”

     “The terminal’s on your desk, you fucking dumbass,” Gavin grumbles.

     The android gives a curt nod. Then its skin disappears; all the while, it presses a white finger on the keypad, accessing the case files.

     It’s shocking to say, even for myself to acknowledge, that there are ten deviant cases per _day._

     “Two hundred and forty-three files,” the android mumbles, not sure if Gavin hears him, “The first one dates back nine months.”

     The thirty-six year old man, feet kicked up on his desk, is leaning back in his chair on his phone. A scarred, tanned hand with dark brown hairs resting across it scratches his stubbled chin. He seems to be paying no mind to the android.

     Speaking a little louder, finally getting the young man’s attention, the android states, “It all started in Detroit—“

     The android pauses, his gray brows furrowing in thought, making it look older than it was modeled to be, “And quickly spread across the country…”

     Gavin, annoyed, huffs at the android who was modelled to appear as an old man, but is interrupted right before he is able to complain.

     “A man, Carlos Ortiz, is reported to have been murdered,” it leans back, fixing its tie, “The force cannot find any prints, it could have been done at the hands of a deviant.”

     “And how the _fuck_ do you think that?”

     “Androids do not leave fingerprints, Detective Reed.”

     A snort, “Well, go on, plastic prick,” he waves Hank off, “Ya don’t need a goddamned babysitter.”

     “I am authorized to stay by your side, Detective Reed,” the android states, rising up from its seat and striding over to Gavin’s relaxed form, “But I will _not_ wait around until you feel like working with me, if you refuse to do _your_ job, I will be forced to contact my superiors—“

     The young man surges up, fist quickly coming in contact with the android’s cheek.

     A sickening crack resounds throughout the DPD, at least, I believe it did.

     A gurgled scream rips itself from the man’s throat, he quickly retracts his fist to grip the wrist with his other hand. Angrily cursing Hank, tears threatening to form in his eyes. He clutches his injured hand to his chest.

     Hank’s cheek had gone white, and is now replacing itself with its pale skin.

     “Okay, you fucking plastic prick,” Gavin seethes, “You fucking win, but I think I have to go to the goddamn hospital first.”

     The android gazes at Gavin, then he explains—

     “It is a sprain, so I can take care of it myself.”

     “Like I’d fucking trust **_you_ **.”

     The young man, his face twisted with anger, storms out.

     I think that, maybe, I should have accepted the request to be on the deviant cases.

But, honestly—

**_This is far too entertaining to watch._ **


End file.
